West of the Moon, East of the Sun
by Squijim
Summary: Legolas stands on the shores of Middle-earth, long after those from the fellowship have died or gone away. This is sort of my take on what happened before Legolas took Gimli over the sea with him to Eressia in the books. Please R/R


(West of the Moon, East of the Sun)  
  
Disclaimer: I am fully aware that Legolas did not, in fact sail to the undying lands from the Grey Havens, HOWEVER. As I have said in the summary of this story, this is MY TAKE on the story of Gimli and Legolas and their trip to Eressea. (In ontherwords, it is MY IDEA on what should have happened when they set sail.)  
  
Another note: Instead of boring you (the reader) with the description of their voyage over the sea, I simply left it out, there is a space between and stars, indicated the passage of time, however long it would take to cross an entire ocean. SO please, understand that, and MOST IMPORTANTLY ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
-Squijim.  
  
The grey mist still hung on the harbor, all the world and distant lands that lay beyond in the fair lands to Middle-earth were shrouded from sight.  
  
Legolas's bright eyes seemed distant, he breathed in the fresh early morning sea air. All around him were grey skies and grey trees, he laughed to himself ruefully. The Grey Havens were well named.  
  
The lapping of the water and the faint creek of his ship seemed the only noise in this dream world.  
  
His heart had longed for this, for the sea, so why was he troubled? Why was it so difficult to raise his foot and walk up the platform to his ship? He would be free; he could ease the steady ache in his heart if he would only take a few steps.  
  
He sighed and muttered softly:  
  
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth! I still remember, I who dwell In this far land beneath the trees The starlight on the western seas.  
  
They were gone, all the elves were gone, well that was not entirely true, there were yet a handful still, but they too were preparing to leave this land. Eressea, Elven home, it was there his path was leading, and there his quest would end. How he longed to see those whom had long ago sailed these waters and passed through the mist. The land of his people. He closed his eyes.  
  
He had no reason to stay, there was nothing left here for him. And those he had loved the most and was closest to had long ago passed away.  
  
Legolas's thoughts were interrupted; he heard the sound of boots being placed down heavily on the wooden dock. He listened with his eyes closed until the noise stopped next to him.  
  
Legolas reopened his eyes and gazed down to his right. He smiled at the dwarf that stood leaning on his ax beside him. He was aged, his hair was gray, his beard longer and wirery. But in his dark eyes a spark still remained. He blinked and breathed in deeply.  
  
A tear came to the elf's eyes; it hurt him to see his friend grey and bent with age.  
  
'A dreary morning to set sail, wouldn't you agree master elf?' the dwarf's rough voice seemed to ring loudly in the quiet harbor.  
  
'Yes, master dwarf...but perfect, for it matches my mood.' Legolas breathed.  
  
'Why would today, your mood be so morose when your heart has longed for nothing else?' the dwarf gazed up at his fair and young looking friend.  
  
'Because, Gimli, my old friend... they are all gone.' Legolas's voice faded as he spoke.  
  
'Gone? The elves you mean?' Gimli shifted his weight.  
  
'No, not the elves. I think you know who.' Legolas's eyes misted over.  
  
'Ah,' the dwarf said. 'I know of whom you speak.' Gimli lifted his ax and placed it gently in his belt. 'The last of the Fellowship stand here upon this shore, and soon, they too will be gone from this land, passing through the mists into legend.'  
  
Legolas leaned over, patting Gimli's strong, broad shoulders. 'Yes, you've hit the mark right on master dwarf. I wonder if our little ringbearer is still alive?'  
  
'Hobbits live a long, even in elven terms, and he is a Baggins, that alone will bring many years to his life. My heart tells me he is, let us hope that it is right.' Gimli sighed. 'Do you suppose Gandalf is still alive?'  
  
Legolas stared out at the mist on the water and blinked slowly. 'Yes, he is. I know he is.'  
  
There was a long moment of silence; a sea gull cried overhead but the mist and fog made it impossible to see it.  
  
'I am old, Legolas, and cannot stand long on this dock. With your leave, I shall board the ship and rest a bit until we sail.' Gimli stared up at the elf.  
  
'You may indeed my friend.' Legolas responded, his eyes never leaving the mist.  
  
He closed his eyes, listening as the heavy tromp of Gimli's boots walked up the plank and onto the ship. He breathed in the deep aroma of the land that had been his home, and childhood playground for thousands of years. Visions and memories flashed in his mind like an old home movie, he saw faces and lands that were dear to his heart, he heard the wind in the trees of Mirkwood, the laughter of his people, the songs from days gone by.  
  
He tasted the sweet elven wine that had been drunk at many a celebration, the food that was always so elegantly prepared.  
  
But more treasured than any memory he held in his heart, were the visions and voices of those of the fellowship of the ring. He missed them all more than anything, he would trade all the years of his life to see the little hobbits, playing and singing, eating more than their fill of the food. He missed Aragorn, who had been the only human that he had ever befriended in his long life. Even though he was with him, he missed Gimli as well; he missed the younger face, the keener mind. Oh sweet god, so many memories, he wanted to keep them all, but in this land they were not comfort, they were a torture to his mind and soul, he had to leave.  
  
He sighed, taking his last look at the mist world of his birth.  
  
Legolas pulled the plank down, casting it into the water, and then he swiftly and nimbly, leapt onto his ship, pulling up the anchor, and pushing off. He could not stand to be on that dock for a second longer, it was time to leave.  
  
Only Gimli looked back as they sailed away into the mist, he sighed and gazed up at his friend.  
  
'Do you think you shall ever return?'  
  
The elf shook his head slowly. 'No, I shall never return, Middle-earth is not my home anymore.' He smiled. 'Perhaps, it never was.'  
  
* * *  
  
Gimli's eyes widened as the mist around them slowly cleared, and over the water, the sweet voices of the immortals came softly to his ears.  
  
Only Legolas closed his eyes, letting the light from that blessed place caress his flawless face, letting the warmth wash over him, sweeping away his longing and pain.....and with them, his memories.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf long under tree  
  
In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the sea!  
  
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore  
  
Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.....  
  
THE END. 


End file.
